You Could Be My Silver Springs
by okaytimenation
Summary: Claude had never thought of Jeanie like this before, but in that moment everything she was was exactly what he needed. Pre-Musical. Claude/Jeanie.


It was the day Claude decided he wasn't going to go to school anymore. At the time nothing had seemed permanent; he hadn't consciously decided he was dropping out of school. But he knew he was done for the rest of the week, knew he wouldn't have the energy to go back next Monday and vaguely realized how quickly the weeks would turn into months.  
Going home didn't feel safe, having to explain to his parents why he wasn't at school that afternoon wasn't what he wanted to do. If he wanted to deal with guilt and pressure, he'd have stayed at school. So he took the train to Sheila's Greenwich apartment thinking the entire time what it'd be like to never return to his Flushing home again. Nothing he had there was irreplaceable, moving away would be quick and painless so long as his parents weren't involved.  
He played with the idea the entire train ride there. Living with Sheila, sharing a bed with Sheila. Berger goes by often enough. Maybe one day all three of them could live together, sharing a bed, a home, a life. He allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, pretending to think it was possible for the three of them to live in harmony, that jealousy wouldn't get the better of any of them. He would tell Sheila about it when he got to her place. "I need a home," he would say, he wouldn't give her time to say no. "I'm dropping out and moving out."  
He planned her reaction as he walked the two blocks down the street to her apartment. She'd be speechless at first, knowing her, she wouldn't know how to react but she wouldn't be able to turn him to the streets either. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he were really lucky, he'd make love to her that night. That was what he really wanted, to experience Sheila and nothing else.  
He reached her apartment unaware of the time and knocked on the door before even considering her absence. A soft "come in," sounded from the other end of the door and Claude clasped his hand around the door knob, eager to find Sheila as he imagined her: body sprawled in a sheer dress across her couch with a joint floating in between two fingers. He slid his body into the small apartment, ready to take in the sweet familiar scent, ready to take her into his arms and never let go. But it wasn't Sheila he found sprawled across the couch; in fact no one was sprawled across the couch. Jeanie occupied the otherwise empty apartment; she laid on her back on the rug in clothes he recognized as Sheila's, twisting her curly hair into thin braids and refusing to break eye contact with the ceiling.  
"Is... is Sheila home?" Claude asked before shutting the door behind him.  
"Nooo," Jeanie drew out, rolling onto her side to face Claude. A smile spread across her face when she met his eyes. "What's up, Claudio?"  
"Oh nothing," he stayed rigid and still near the door. "Just looking for Sheila."  
"She's got school, man," Jeanie laughed. "Don't you?"  
"No, not today..." Claude trailed off. "Don't you?"  
"No. I wasn't feeling it," she flopped back onto her back, stretching her arms out to her sides. "I come here when I got nowhere else to go."  
"Yeah..." Claude trailed off. "Me too." He was lying.  
"Really? Sheila says she hasn't seen much of you lately."  
"Sheila talks about me?" This made Claude shut the door behind him, it made him want to come further into the apartment and take his chance talking with Jeanie. Maybe he could wait around until Sheila showed up, she couldn't be that much longer.  
"Mmm... not really," Jeanie said, teasing him, knowing it'd make him upset. "I haven't seen you lately either."  
"Yeah, well I've been busy," Claude stalled by the door.  
"You can come in," she sat up as she said this, folding her hands in her lap. "You don't have to stand in the doorway, ya know?"  
Claude drew in a deep breath, trying to think up a lie. He didn't want to be there if Sheila wasn't there. "I really can't stay long."  
"That's alright," she shrugged. "Come sit with me, Claudio."  
He fought back the temptation to argue and decided it'd just be easiest to join Jeanie on the rug in Sheila's apartment.  
"Something wrong?" she asked him, scooting in closer to him. He shook his head, staying silent. "Have you done the homework for chemistry yet?"  
"Don't talk about school, Jeanie," he asked, turning and looking at her. She looked startled that the two of them were making eye contact in such close proximity. He rolled his eyes, she always acted like this when the two of them talked. It was no secret she was enamored with him, she wasn't good at hiding it and in fact he was pretty sure she'd given up trying to hide it.  
"Tell me what's bothering you," she said, placing a small palm on his arm and resting her head on his shoulder.  
"Oh... everything. I was just hoping to let off some steam with Sheila... by talking to her... I wanted to vent to her."  
Jeanie laughed, sitting up straight again. "You love Sheila?"  
"I don't know if love..."  
"I understand," she said, looking into those two brown eyes she loved to look into. She dreamed about them sometimes, just his eyes alone and nothing else. They were beautiful to her even if they were just eyes. "Lie down with me." She said softly as she fell back onto the carpet again, spreading out her arms and closing her eyes. Claude followed, allowing his neck to fall just atop her arm. Her beaded bracelets stabbed into the soft skin but he didn't bother moving. He wanted to fall asleep on the carpet. Maybe when he woke up Sheila would have taken Jeanie's place.  
"What do you love about Sheila?" Jeanie asked in a near whisper. Her eyes still shut, her body still and breaths silent.  
"I don't know… everything I guess."  
"She's beautiful," Jeanie agreed. "Sometimes I think I might love her. And then I think of you…" she trailed off. "I'm sorry."  
"Don't be."  
"You're beautiful, Claude."  
"You're beautiful too, Jeanie."  
She couldn't stop a smile from forming on her lips; her heartbeats quickened, her cheeks reddened. She moved her arm out from under him in fear he'd notice her excitement. She didn't mean to react in that way but the most interaction they'd ever had was merely conversation and nothing involving a compliment from him.  
"I mean it."  
She instantly, without thinking, reached for his hand and clutched it in her own, her smile never fading.  
He did mean it. He did find her beautiful. Annoying? That too. But he cared for her and he appreciated how she cared for him. She cared for him more than Sheila did and maybe even more than Berger did too. He ought to be grateful of that. Not to mention her hand fit very nicely in his.  
"Do you think you could ever love me, Claude?" she asked, breaking the silence.  
He looked at her and smiled, feeling bad for her and embarrassed for her that she acted like this around him. But she didn't even seem embarrassed for herself; she seemed not to care or not to notice - or both - how everything she said was entirely the opposite of what the conversation called for. Could he love her? How was he supposed to know? Probably not, he wanted to say. Definitely not if she kept asking him.  
"I don't know, Jeanie," he said, loosening his grip on her hand, folding his arms across his chest. "Why do you gotta worry about stuff like that?"  
"Stuff like love?"  
"I like you a lot Jeanie," he paused and then regretted it, knowing he was leaving her with too much anticipation of what would follow. "If only you weren't so damned annoying about it all the time. Can't we just be friends and normal or something?"  
She sighed audibly.  
"God, what do you want from me?" he asked, raising his voice with annoyance.  
"I don't know," she mumbled, rolling onto her side to face him. He pulled his folded arms in tighter to his chest. She stared at his profile, rememorizing it before closing her eyes letting the image burn in her mind. "Can't we just stay here, like this, forever?"  
He looked over to her, fragile head framed in blonde curls, innocent expressionless face. She looked like she could be asleep. He rarely took the time to recognize how nice she looked. She was always with Sheila and Claude never noticed anyone in a room with Sheila in it. This was different - no Sheila, just Jeanie in Sheila's apartment and Sheila's clothes. He found himself wanting to reach out and touch her, to hold her, to kiss her. He attempted to shake it off but not before letting a hand place itself on a small narrow shoulder.  
She smiled and this time he let her; he let her indulge in his touch without being annoyed by it. He enjoyed the contact too, wishing the thin layer of Sheila's muslin tunic wasn't between them. She cuddled up closer to him and he found himself wanting to touch her more and yet wanting to hit himself over the head for even considering it. Her eyes stayed firmly shut; she was so over-aware of their proximity that she didn't want to open her eyes and spoil it. The thought of it was enough for her.  
"Claude," she breathed. It wasn't loud enough for anyone over two feet away to hear. "Kiss me. Please."  
"I can't," he said, beginning to rub his hand up and down her arm. "I can't because you'll never let me forget it. You'll tell the world and you'll expect more from me."  
"If you want to kiss me, just do it."  
And he couldn't argue, he did want to. As annoying as she was, she was equally - if not more so - intuitive by nature. Sometimes it felt like she was inside Claude's mind, saying what he thought and wanted to say before he had the chance to. He liked that about her. He wanted to kiss her for that alone - so he did. He turned to his side, placed a hand atop her cheek and let their lips collide. She didn't react as he thought she would - she remained calm having apparently seen it coming and kissed back with fervor.  
And then he made a mistake. He didn't mean to do it, but he pushed her down onto her back, his head hovering over hers, strands of his hair hanging and hitting her face, their lips hesitating to meet again. He froze frightened, knowing what he had accidentally started. She didn't smile up at him, she didn't move. She simply waited for him to make another move. "He might leave," she thought to herself. "Don't get your hopes up."  
But he didn't want to leave because his hand was already moving down her flushed face and onto her breast where he could feel her hardened nipple just beneath his palm. Caressing her felt out of place, so he let his hand linger and her eyes egged him on. More, she wanted more.  
After that he moved quicker, knowing everything was spiralling and nothing was going how he had wanted it to go but he'd been horny since he knocked on the door and taking Jeanie's clothes off felt like a priority. Sheila left his mind and he was straddling Jeanie and she was smiling up at him now as she kicked her jeans off of her ankles.  
"This isn't fair," she said, her hair fanning her head like a halo against the dark swirling patterns of the rug beneath them. "You don't even like me but you're the one with all your clothes on still. Don't I get anything from this?"  
"Who says I don't like you," he said as he yanked the shirt over his head before tossing it to the side. Her hands reached up to him desperately. Her icy fingertips sent chills and tickles over his stomach that he enjoyed more than he feared.  
"Kiss me again, Claude," she said, spreading her arms to her side. "Kiss me and take me."  
He kissed her and tried not to think about what taking her would entail. Losing his virginity to the wrong person in the right person's house, on the right person's rug, with the potential of the right person walking in on them. And taking her virginity, would he be taking her virginity? Surely no one else at school had slept with Jeanie, yet he had to admit he enjoyed her so much more once her clothes were off. He hated himself for thinking such shallow thoughts so he deepened his kiss and let a hand slide down her inner thigh.  
Small sounds of pleasure left Jeanie's throat and there she was, where she'd only dreamt of being for what had been years now. With Claude touching her, kissing her, maybe coming close to loving her. "More," her mind screamed as her mouth let out small, restrained moans. "Give me more."  
She stopped him suddenly, pushing his chest off of hers and he looked down at her confused. Had he done something wrong? Did she not want this afterall?  
"I said," she whispered. "I said, I wanted you to take me."  
"I..."  
"You still have your pants on."  
"Do you really want this?" He only asked it because he wasn't sure if he, himself did.  
"Yes. I want my first time to be..."  
"Please don't say special."  
"To be with you. Even if we never speak again. I want it to be you."  
And he couldn't argue with that.  
"It's my first time, too," he said, blushing, as he removed his jeans. She stared at him, he was harder than either of them had noticed.  
It all felt so awkward. Wasn't it supposed to be more romantic? Maybe a later time in the evening? In the dark with incense and candles burning? And someplace more comfortable than the floor? But it didn't matter because he was on top of her and the last thing he thought about before he pushed into her was at least now he'd look experienced when he finally did it with Sheila.  
Jeanie was loud and she was happy. He was scared to hurt her but she managed to move just as much or more than him. He was glad to make her happy and he felt just as good. The more they got into it the more his thoughts of Sheila seemed to evaporate. He focused on and looked only on Jeanie, their hips rocking into a steady motion and their noises loud enough for anyone on the floor to hear.  
"Oh Claude," she cried. "Claudio, I love you for this right now!" She reached up pushing away the strands of his hair that fell, curtaining his face. She clasped her hands around the back of his neck, trapping hairs beneath her grip and digging her fingernails into his skin for only a brief moment while she came.  
Her body shivered, her breaths so heavy he wondered whether he should slow down or not. But her arms fell and sprawled outwards onto the carpet again and her hips returned back to their steady rhythm. Claude smiled at how nice and natural this was all beginning to feel.  
"Jeanie, I-" he knew he would finish soon as well and she looked sad to know it was over. He pulled out and she quickly wrapped her palm around his length and pumped until he came with a long, exasperated groan.  
They both fell on their backs onto Sheila's rug. Jeanie started laughing first and Claude followed. That was it, they'd really done it. Jeanie turned to him and said "Will you still talk to me after today?"  
"Of course," he said reaching for her hand.  
"I'll never forget this. It was beautiful. I can't image making more beautiful love."  
"I can't either, Jeanie," he said, turning his gaze up towards the ceiling. He pulled Jeanie into his arms and held her close. And despite thoughts of Sheila crawling their way back into his mind, they weren't the only ones there. "I can't either," he repeated, squeezing her closer and closely his eyes.


End file.
